


Boyd Family Portrait

by EnigmaticSplendor



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-18
Updated: 2013-09-09
Packaged: 2017-12-23 23:23:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/932307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnigmaticSplendor/pseuds/EnigmaticSplendor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes death is just a new beginning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What Dreams May Come

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to what may quite possibly be a very long journey. I came up with the basic plot of this story in a dream and I hope that my research and intense outlining will help make this an enjoyable read. I'd like to give a special thank you to [daensonnet](http://daensonnet.tumblr.com/) who helped and inspired me through this chapter (and even in the planning stages) and my brother who edited most of the chapter for me. With out those two this story would not be a thing.

_Who knows our story better_

_than the wind in the trees,_

_better than the beat of the human heart?_

* * *

He's not expecting it. He's not expecting to live longer than the electricity has to get to him. He thinks they are all done for as soon as the power returns. As soon as the pain tears through him in a way that feels too soon all things considered.

He is wrong.

Everyone is moving so quickly and he's trying to just get out but Kali is faster than him, is stronger than him. It makes sense that he would be killed by her, of all the alpha's she seems the most vicious.

He expects her to rip him to shreds, claw him down to his very  _bones_.

But the pain leaves him hazy and confused. He doesn't realize what's happening until it's too late. Then Derek's voice surrounds him like a shroud:

"No, no, no, no, no."

"I'm sorry please. Please."

He can smell the salt of his tears and the anguish that practically oozes out of him him. After that it gets a little foggier and he's not sure who's talking anymore. But it doesn't really matter what he says. The edges of his vision turn black and he sees Erica. Beautiful, brave, powerful Erica. He wants to see her again. Wants to be with her again.

Before it's all over he hears Cora scream his name.

(The sound of death is white noise)

* * *

**There is a song playing in his ears, no, it pounds through his whole self. Filling his entire being with the sound of countless voices. They sing his name over and over in an endless harmony.**

We welcome you, fourth of the beloved line.

* * *

_there is a house in beacon hills, just off Elm Street between Alder Place and Oak Lane where the Boyds make their home. on the walls are hundreds of photos. professional and personal, polaroids and store developed, framed, bare, secured by push pins and blue gum. all lovingly placed with handwritten notes on the back._

_in the morning Grandma Boyd took a picture of her youngest grandson._

_on the back it reads:_

I dreamt of your daddy last night, stay safe wherever you go.

_but tonight she knows what is gone and what has remained. she knows that her grandson will not return to her tonight._

_but he will return._

* * *

Being dead is much less distressing than he'd originally thought it would be. In all honestly the actual dying is the worst part. The pain and the blood and the feeling of helplessness. But actually being dead is painless. This isn't so bad. He feels lighter, less burdened, like he's free of all earthly attachments, a sense of peace fills him.

He's at a loss as far as what to do and ultimately alone with no idea of where he is or how to get anywhere else. There's no pearly gates or fiery pit or anything of the signs that he learned about in Sunday school. He's just alone in a dark, moist swamp lit up by only the murkiest of "light", and the occasional wayward firefly (do fireflies still happen in the...wherever he is?). He senses no immediate danger but still feels a lingering sense of foreboding.

"Well ain't this some fuck shit."

There's nothing to do or see so he simply waits. Something will happen sooner or later. It's unnecessary to run into any situation half cocked and if his grandmother was right (as she usually was) it's best to stay put when you're lost.

* * *

_on the kitchen counter, next to the magazines and above toaster is a photo of Erica Reyes. her skin is splotchy and flushed and her hair is wild. she is smiling, relaxed and at home in the Boyd household. she is wearing Boyd's grey sweater and stirring the batter for a chocolate cake._

_on the back it reads:_

Our family's newest edition :)

* * *

"Boyd!"

The entire swamp ripples and sways towards the sound. And he is pulled forward with it. He slides down with the current and does not struggle, he does not fight, he just is. The voice is honeyed and soft, calling to him, melting into him and bringing him to...

Bringing him too...

"Boyd." Her bright smile lights up her face like a corona.

"Erica."

"What are you doing here so early? There was supposed to be at least another seventy years left for you." He runs a hand through her hair, mouth set in a grim line and her smile fades.

"Kali." Erica stiffens, eyes watering.

"I thought you escaped."

"I did." And that makes it all the worse. He had made it out. He was free. He could feel the moon and shift and not fear dying from any misstep. But some how they still got him.

Somehow he'd still managed to mess things up–

"Don't think like that Boyd. This isn't your fault. It's Derek's, it's Kali's, it's Deucallion's. But not yours. You can't own this." Her voice is shaking but she is not crying, not with that sharp sad expression. She wants to pull him out of his dark thoughts (how did she know?) and keep him honest. She wants him to be free of his guilt, however misplaced it may be.

And he wants to let it go. He's held on to so much in his life, why should his death be made just as heavy. But he doesn't have the means to, not now, not yet. So instead of dealing with the heaviness, he asks,"What is this place?"

She smiles at him, without joy.

"This is where you go before you leave for good."

"...and what does that mean?" She sighs, world weary and indulgent all at once.

"It means I have a lot to show you."

(I have missed you as the sun misses the moon)

* * *

_she expects at least a phone call in the days following Boyd's absence (she will not call it anything else until she dreams of teeth falling out of her daughters mouth) but there is nothing. no phone calls, no letters, and no visits. to say she is disappointed is a bit of an understatement. but four days is certainly long enough for someone to contact her._

_she has half a mind to reach out and find the one that should be seeking her. her ancestors would be much obliged, perhaps her husband would do this favor for her? before she can further plot there is knock at the door. before she goes to answer she pulls out her camera and a pen._

_this visit must be documented._

* * *

The swamp is so far back in his memory that it seems almost like a dream. This place, whatever it is, twists and changes at every turn, there is no consistency or solidity. Everything is malleable according to some unknown means. At any given moment they could be plunged into unending darkness only to find themselves in a thick lush forest, or a meadow made of cotton candy. It's all very disorienting to him but Erica takes it all in stride, each change of environment is met with a sort of blithe indifference one would treat a mild inconvenience.

He's impressed, awed even, and more than a bit concerned with her surprising lack of reaction. Boyd doesn't want to ask where they're, her single minded determination is a bit of a deterrent to his questions. When she's like this everything and everyone is more or less background noise.

"We're almost there. Don't worry. Just one more demon den and we'll be at our destination."

Boyd definitely doesn't want to know what a demon den is but when the world around him becomes black again he decides to just let it run it's course. After all, he's apparently been through a few. No sense worrying about this one.

* * *

_when the flash goes off it's obvious that Derek Hale was not expecting it. he hadn't even heard her set it up to take the picture. his look of disorientation is one she's glad has been immortalized. she shakes out the polaroid gently and smiles at his bewildered expression._

_"Won't you come in, Derek? We have a lot to talk about."_

_later on the bottom of the polaroid it will read:_

Talia's son, He looks just like his mama.

Too bad he didn't get her class or charisma.

We'll love him anyway.

* * *

"We're here."

This has got to be the most normal place he'll see all day. There an actual sun and normal colored clouds. The sky is blue and reminds him of clear summer days in Beacon Hills. The grass is a strange color, some mix between orange and puce, and the flowers have faces but this place right here, with it's normal sky and honest to God house with a wrap around porch, is closest to normal he's seen all day (he's still repressing them memory of an angry sentient penis chasing them through a forest).

"Do you live here?" He asks, pointing towards the house. Erica smiles, shaking her head and taking his hand again, leading him forward through grass to the front door. The flowers giggle at them.

"I don't the people that do would like to see you." Before she can knock, the door slams open and a short brown blur knocks Boyd off of his feet and onto the grass again!

"Quatre! I missed you so much!" A warm, sharp feeling settles into his chest and he wraps his arms around her.

"Alicia," his voice cracks and wavers. She's so much smaller than he remembers her being. It felt like just yesterday when he was level with her. Now she's barely higher than his waist and her face is still round and soft from youth. For her time stopped, kept her just as small and young as she had been all those years ago. He'd stolen her life from her, he realizes. He'd stolen her chance to age and grow just but turning his back on her for a second.

The thought breaks his heart and tears fall from his eyes.

"I'm so sorry." It's soft and choked with emotion.

"No, quarte, it's not your fault. I promise. I swear." Erica lays down with them on the grass, arms wrapped around them both.

In the background the flowers coo at them.

(My arms that could not protect, shall comfort)

* * *

_With past in present_

_(I go to thee)_


	2. Family Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family comes from blood and tears but above all: love.

_Forgive me for my weakness_

_(I meant no harm)_

* * *

_Quarte follows his mother like a shadow in awe of her ever growing belly. They tell him that she is making him a little sister. That her belly is getting bigger and bigger because she's growing a little bit more everyday. And while Quarte may not be entirely sure of what a 'sister' is but he's hoping for a cake instead. Babies aren't as fun as big kids like him. And cake is yummy (he can't eat a baby, ew)._

_But he's still thinks he'll like her anyway. Babies might be too small to have real fun with but they make silly faces. She might be funny._

_He might even like her._

* * *

_Derek sits at the kitchen table, eyes darting about to take in his surroundings. much like every other room in the house he's seen the kitchen is filled with photos. when he sees the familiar faces of Boyd and Erica his heart aches._

" _Mrs. Boyd-"he starts nervously only to be stopped by Grandma Boyd's stern glare._

" _Like I said before Derek, we won't talk until we've eaten. No guest of mine will leave hungry, thirsty, or otherwise neglected. Get ready to stay a while." Derek frowns but doesn't protest again. he takes a tentative sip of the sweet tea she'd placed in front of him._

_honestly he just wanted to get this over with. he'd spent the previous days mourning and trying to come up with a way to tell her about what happened to Boyd. all of it. from the bite until the end._

_but this was her home, her territory. she was the alpha here and he had to respect that and do this how she wanted it to be done. if she wanted to give him food and drink and chat about frivolous things before she took in the news then he could at least do this for her._

* * *

_Josephine Boyd is nine months pregnant and feel ready to pop at the slightest jostling. Her feet and ankles are swollen and her bladder is all but crushed by the stubborn child that refuses come out and greet the world. The contractions come hard and fast with increasing frequency and she wants this pregnancy over._

_Her husband tries to comfort her and cater to her strange cravings and ever pressing need to use the bathroom. But there's only so much pistachio ice cream, cheetos, oxtails a man can buy and prepare before he becomes a bit frayed along the edges._

_But Quarte, sweet, quiet little Quarte takes his parents tension in stride. He demands bedtimes stories at any and every part of the day and refuses to be away from his mother for longer than a bathroom break. He's warmed up to the idea of a sister and actually wants to be there when the baby comes out._

_Quarte imagines she'll pop out of his mommy's belly button in a little white dress._

_Josie, as worn as she is just feels grateful that he doesn't glare at her mistrustfully anymore. Instead of avoiding her stomach at all costs he now presses his head against it to, "listen to my sissy". He tells her stories about his favorite cartoon and points out the pictures to enthusiastically whenever story time rolls around._

_Josie thinks they'll be okay._

* * *

_she must already know that something is wrong. her grandson had only recently been considered a runaway. she has to know. there's no other explanation for her calm. she must be in shock or denial. she has to think his presence is strange here. they haven't seen each other for more than half a decade. not since he walked past her in the hos_ –

" _Alright then, lunch is ready."_

_she sets his plate down and smiles at him as if he is her friend. as if she doesn't see the man he really is. cannot see the weakness he feels everyday. as if she doesn't blame him for-_

_oh._

_Oh._

_but she should, it's her right. he was the alpha. he was responsible for his family, his pack. he was supposed to protect Boyd but he didn't. this pretense is eating him alive but she smiles at him and it reminds him of his mother. he shouldn't have this comfort, this isn't about him, not really, he owes her this truth, this honesty that he's always fled. he's always been running from moments like this, moments where he has to be truthful, moments when he has to apologize. he's been running for so long, he owes it to her stop for once._

_he owes her this painful truth._

* * *

_Somewhere between the kitchen dining room her water breaks. The wet rush is shocking and the round of contractions that follow send her to her knees. She curses her luck, right when Vernon finally goes to get her hot wings and marshmallow fluff the stubborn willful child decides she is ready to be born._

_Josie doesn't think she can even reach the phone in the kitchen it hurts so much._

" _Mommy? Mommy!"_

" _Baby get me the phone." She rasps out, breaking out into a sweat as another wave rocks through her. It wasn't this painful with Quatre, he came so quickly, like he was all too excited to be a part of the world. But now he is her little hero._

" _Mommy, what's wrong?" His big brown eyes are filled with concern and she has to force herself to smile at him in a way she hopes is reassuring._

" _Everything is fine baby boy, your sister's just ready to be born. " She dials the numbers with trembling fingers. Quatre holds her arm with his tiny little hands, trying to bring his mother what little comfort he can. It helps her voice stay steady when she groans out their home address right when a sharp pain rips through her core._

_She passes out when the paramedics get to her. Soothed only by her son's soft voice._

" _You're going to be okay Mommy. You and the baby. Everything will be okay."_

* * *

_he's trying to say it in the gentlest way possible, he knows he's just babbling uselessly, prolonging the inevitable but it's been so long since someone's look at him the way she does. like he's worth something, like he's redeemable. he just wants to stay in this soft in between where she could still look at him like he's-_

" _Derek, I consider you family. And family doesn't mince words or sugar coat things. So whatever you need to say should be said with respect and honesty. Don't dress it up for me. I've lived a long life, nothing can shock me much anymore. " he swallows down the lump the grows in his throat and the words just come. she's telling him everything from the fire to losing Laura, his every night missing what he's lost, missing his mother so much he thought he'd never sit up or speak or breathe. he tells her about his betas, first just human and hurt and smelling like_ pack and home. _he tells her how he's failed her grandson, how he didn't prepare him, didn't warn him, how he_ lied _to him. he speaks until he has no breath left, until he finally notices the heaving shudders that rock his body with his every breath, until he feels the tears stream down his face and he can't see her any more._

" _I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…"_

_he can hear her stillness, no tears here but his own and waits, still open and vulnerable, waiting for a scream or a shout, but there is no anger in her scent, and when she finally moves he can cath the scent of the scent of motherhood, of unconditional love._

_her hand wraps around his own and he squeezes it gently._

_they do not part._

* * *

_Quarte sits quietly in the waiting room, holding Nurse McCall's hand, and wondering what's going on. They took him away from his mother as soon as they got into the ER. When his dad got there he ran right past him down the hall that Nurse McCall told him he wasn't allowed to go down by himself._

_He doesn't really understand why it's taking so long. The baby was in his mother tummy for sooooo long, why can't she just be born already? He bets she's doing it on purpose to get attention. What if she becomes the favorite? What if everyone loves her more than him?_

_He doesn't have a long time to think about it because his father comes in and sweeps him into a spinning hug. He hasn't done that since he became a big boy. He feels like something is wrong, something that would make his strong father hold him like a baby, something to explain his wet cheeks. but he doesn't ask about his tears._

" _Can I see mommy and sissy?"_

_His father kisses him all over his face and squeezes him tighter._

" _Of course son, I love you. I love you so much."_

" _I love you too, daddy." He carries him down the hall Nurse McCall banned him from and into a funny smelling room. His mother looks so tired he doesn't know what to say or do to help her so he reaches out to hold them both._

* * *

" _I knew about my Quarte the whole time. I just needed you to come forward and be honest. I needed someone who wasn't in a uniform to tell me about my grandson. Do you understand?"_

_her words strike a chord in him, he can still remember sitting in the sheriff's office with Laura, waiting for them for say what he already knew was true, what he already felt clawing at his heart with each breath._

" _I'm not angry with you, Derek. Not much at least. It hurts that you waited so long. That you didn't come to me with this sooner. I needed to know that you respected me enough to tell me the truth." his eyes flash red at this, not in anger or aggression, or even shock, she can tell that it was completely involuntary but the gesture stands._

_a sign of submission to a fellow alpha._

" _No matter what happens or has happened, you are as much a Boyd as you are Hale. You can still come home." and then she stands to wrap her arms around him._

 _and he is_ home.

* * *

_My debt lives in my bones_

_Bleaching the stain of my sin_

_(With you in mind_

_I begin again)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was actually really hard to write. I kept on changing it and screaming at my computer. Once again thanks to my brother and daensonnet, as well as the lovely people who commented on chapter one. The next chapter is already being written so you won't have too long to wait since I plan on making it shorter this time around. The chapter title is from the Kanya track of the same name. It always gives me feelings so check it out if you've never heard it. 
> 
> Till next time~

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! Please feel free to follow me on [tumblr](http://sassmuffinsista.tumblr.com/) I will be posting a bunch of mini updates and backstory for the world I have created using the Teen Wolf universe as a springboard. And side stories for the new characters that will be introduced.


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